the wires got the best of him

alan monday ∙ 53 ∙ admiral

[calypso-frances-blog]

"To atone."

Frances narrowed her eyes, then stretched her arms idly, watching the soft blue of her coat fall back in folds to her elbows, then back down as she relaxed. Then her legs—with her hands on either side of the cushions, the points of her heels dug down, leaving little indentations in the plush carpet. 

One corner of her mouth quirked, humorlessly. “If you walk out of this room, you’ll have to answer for what you’ve done one way or another. You’ll only make it worse with a body on your hands.

"Or," she continued, "I will defend you. But only if you do what I ask. And if you’re smart, you know what I want, and you’ll take the deal." 

[calypso-alan-blog]

Alan took this moment to lean back a little. He did not want to look as if he was leaning into Frances' trap—although he had a feeling he was tumbling into it headfirst, whatever it was. Either way, he had to cut the trash-talking of the crew to a bare minimum; after all, he knew that Frances was aware some of the things Dr. Holtzer had reported were...

Well, with the number of patients he's seen, there's bound to be a couple unfortunate truths locked within those reports somewhere.

"Alright, Frances, I'll bite. What exactly do you want me to atone for? The bitter, brittle downward spiral of our relationship? That time I accused you of cheating on me over the phone?"He cocked his head, a sly smile playing upon his lips. "And what will your 'defense' get me out of that I couldn't have possibly gotten out of on my own?"

[calypso-frances-blog]

"I’ll believe him more than I’ll ever believe you." Her false sense of warmth melted away in an instant, her brows knitting and her lips forming into a hard line. "Did you think that our ‘past’ would allow for my sympathy?" 

She realized the edges of the paper had crinkled slightly from how she held onto them, but she hadn’t even broken a sweat. “I’m a psychologist, in case you’ve forgotten. You can play this game all day long with me, but nothing will happen.” 

Any flashes of doubt in her mind were carefully obscured with her unflappable exterior. In the end, Alan was merely soft, albeit gilded fruit—Frances had the tough shell, designed to withstand blows. 

It still hurt. But it would take more to make her break. 

"You used to look so kind on the outside." She lifted a brow, not breaking eye contact for even a moment. "What happened, I wonder? If we had the time, I’d pick it apart." 

Then, subtly, she uncrossed her legs, unfolding her arms to spread them out. “I’m sure you’ve done yourself proud.” 

[calypso-alan-blog]

She remained unfazed, icy after his rambling soliloquy, but he couldn't blame her for seeing through the products of his desperation. This was how she had always been. This was why he had found her in the first place.

Was her comment about him seeming "kind" meant as a nostalgic remark? A harsh one? A flippant one? He leaned forward slightly, elbows digging into his knees. "I don't play games, either," he replied, voice lowered slightly, "which is why I can be so direct with you.

"You're right, Frances. I have done myself proud—I'm a highly decorated admiral, for Chrissakes. I have power. Influence. Everything I could ever want, right in the palm of my hands." He paused, quietly glancing her over. "And I don't want your 'sympathy,' Frances. In fact, I'm not sure exactly what I want from you."

A tone both tender and dissonant crept into his voice, his gaze still locked on Frances. "What do you want from me?"

[calypso-frances-blog]

Frances clicked her tongue in false astonishment, folding her arms neatly across her chest—not in self-defense, but self-preservation. There was no way to avoid the childish desire of showing she wasn’t the lamb he remembered her as. All she could do was know that it came across, loud and clear. 

"A very long time." She tilted her head to look at him with some scrutiny, her chin lifted, eyes scanning him. His face seemed weathered, but unfazed. The years had been kind.

"I’ll be straight to the point with you. There’s a file with your name on it that belongs to one of the counselors in your fleet. And as soon as we leave this asteroid belt, the Calypso is expected to dock in Cardai Prime and taken out of commission. Unless, of course, your list of transgressions dating back to 2352 are sent to Starfleet authorities." 

She showed him the papers in her lap, but did not hand them to him. “Which they will be. But knowing you, it’ll go under the radar.” 

Then she leaned forward, her chin in one hand. “If anyone else was telling you this, Alan, they’d be dead by now. You’d have them in a chokehold on the floor. Isn’t that right?” 

[calypso-alan-blog]

"One of the counselors"? Well, he should have known the crew had found a reason to be distrustful of him. They were, after all, a disgustingly intrepid bunch—and, with such a friendly crew, rumors about his past "transgressions" were bound to seep out from underneath the doors to the bridge.

Although he found that his hands were shaking and that his weathered skin was now peppered with goose bumps, he wasn't sure whether to feel afraid or absolutely livid.

"Do you trust those papers, Frances?" he asked quietly, reverting to using her first name. He kept his chin up, staring down at the documents resting on her lap. "Do you believe every single 'incident' that Dr. Holtzer has heard of, every patient he has listened to, every word he has typed?"

His eyes flicked upwards. "Since the moment I stepped on board, every single member of this ship's crew has been out to get me. Certainly, I'm no angel—as you and I are both aware—but I did not deserve in the slightest the treatment they gave me. Even the captain herself has been nothing but callous. She acts so protective of her crew—as if there's something to protect, something to hide.

"Dr. Holtzer started spreading rumors about me—I know I've been hard on many of his patients before, but my inquiries were nothing a true professional couldn't handle—and she and the rest of the crew jumped at the opportunity to paint me as their goddamn scapegoat. This is nothing I can't handle, of course, because I've seen it too many times before: I start to unravel their lies, they scramble to cover up the truth."

He cocked an eyebrow. "They've rushed to hide the scars of their pasts. They've woven story after story to paint themselves as martyrs and victims, but I know what they really are: liars. Of course their words will go 'under the radar,' as you say; that is because they are liars, Frances, and I know you know better than to believe that they will ever come out on top."

[calypso-frances-blog]

She’d spent a lot of time thinking about it behind that barricade, and as soon as she stepped aboard the safety of the Calypso, Frances decided silently. Barely an hour passed before things moved into action.

The ready room was available to her, inaudible to the bridge but just close enough for comfort, in case things got ugly. She knew for a fact they would not—on her end, at least—but it was worth the precaution. 

They hadn’t spoken in over two decades, but she knew enough about him to know he wouldn’t hurt her unless she started the altercation. And she mulled over that while she waited for the Admiral to arrive, legs crossed delicately on the sofa—she’d have to remark on the design later. Clean and minimalist. Whoever designed it had good taste. 

[calypso-alan-blog]

Alan stepped into the room, hands interlocked behind his back as he strode in. He glanced upwards, taking note of the clean sleekness of the ceiling above him and the patches of dimmed light spilled across the floor.

When his gaze fixed on Frances, sitting in solitude merely a couple feet away from him, he felt himself tense up a bit. He wasn't exactly sure what to say to her, given that his last memories of her—few of which had fragmented over the years—involved screaming over the phone. Did she expect him to apologize? Had she put their relationship behind her? Did she remember him as clearly as he remembered her, now?

He grabbed an armchair and pulled it over, sitting across from her so as to keep his distance. His fingers dug into the plush armrests as he sat, his eyes coldly meeting hers.

"Long time, no see, Doctor Byrne."

[calypso-piper]

[Piper grimaced. He should’ve known Monday would deny everything, avoid taking ownership of his actions. It was always the same with him.] Then why are you still here? Wouldn’t you rather be at your desk on Earth taking control of all of Starfleet? The Calypso is pretty small territory for you to dominate, Admiral.

[He was well aware of how far he was pushing it. Did he care? Not at all.]

[calypso-alan-blog]

Oh, yes, because you know how much I love taking on ridiculously large responsibilities.

[He paused after reading the frustration and slight bewilderment on Piper's face.] That was a joke, by the way. I'm not looking to take ownership of this ship—and certainly not all of Starfleet—any time soon.

And you should know I didn't plan to stay here as long as I have. The whole "distress call" business has delayed my departure—I can't exactly just hop off the ship, now, can I?

[calypso-jude]

Evidently he’d lost control of his filter. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window as he sat up further, one side of his face significantly bruised, a line of stitches along his temple.

He looked like a goddamn mess. And if his professionalism was gone in his looks, it wouldn’t hurt to leave it behind in how he spoke. 

"That probably has something to do with the way you’ve treated them. Which is, from what I’ve heard, like an asshole.”

Now there was something genuinely bitter in his tone, dissonant from his previous sense of helplessness; it was still there, but he sounded wounded now, raw. “And that’s just on top of all the other shit you’ve pulled. So don’t come in here telling me that you’re displeased over shit you had coming.” 

[calypso-alan-blog]

And Jude had acted before as if he'd had nothing to share with Alan.

Even though the young doctor's honesty was biting, it was welcome; it gave Alan something to latch onto. "To think that I would treat your fellow crew members—most of whom I have only talked to in passing—with anything less than professional, objective cordiality is ridiculous, Dr. Isley. If they took that professionalism as something other than what I meant it, then fault lies with them and not me."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, tone growing darker with every word. "I have, in your words, 'pulled' other 'shit?' Enlighten me."

[calypso-piper]

[At this moment, Piper isn’t certain how angry he is, only that he is very angry, and he isn’t totally sure he could stop himself from attacking the man right then and there. However, he managed to keep calm long enough to take in a deep breath and look Monday in the eye.] I assure you that their hatred did not stem from me, but it sure as hell could’ve. Believe me- I have enough to cover the whole ship.

I want to know why you’re here. Don’t give me the “inspection” crap. I know there’s another reason. I want to know who you’re hurting by it. Because I will not stand here and let anyone else get hurt. [He’s trembling now, and not entirely with rage. His voice almost breaks but he takes a deep breath and clenches his fists.] You’re not going to bully anyone else like you did with me.

[calypso-alan-blog]

[Well, at least Piper wasn't trying to pussyfoot around. Alan was more than happy to meet his gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips.]

On the contrary, Commander, I prefer not to spend my time jumping from ship to ship, trying to destroy everyone's happiness. You are, once again, making a mountain out of a molehill.

[The word "bully," as usual, disrupted Alan's cool a bit. How dare Piper liken him to the bulky teenage boys who used to shove him into haybales with their pimply hands back in Iowa?] Oh, and one more thing: "bullies" resort to crude and physical violence to get their way. I, on the other hand, would never do something so...harmful.

[calypso-jude]

"Fine, then." God damn it, he wished he could at least move without the pain flaring back up again, but all he could do was stay still and hope he didn’t look too helpless. 

He let out a terse breath though his nose and then looked back up to him, willing him with his eyes to get up and leave already leave oh my God. “Might as well tell me what you think is correct. After all, I’m not going anywhere.” 

[calypso-alan-blog]

As Jude stared up at him with those intimidatingly bright eyes, Alan couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable. Was the doctor trying to open him up, now?

"Well, for a visiting admiral, I sure have experienced a lot of...hostility from the crew of this ship. It has admittedly put me on edge." He decided not to mention the sinking feeling he had that some of the crew members were gossiping about his past behind closed doors or, as he had witnessed in many a nightmare, plotting his demise.

"Not that my reactions and emotions would be any of your business, of course." He cocked his head with a bitingly contented smirk. "But you can see why I would feel somewhat displeased with how things have been around here these past couple of days."

[calypso-jude]

"It’s none of your business. It isn’t theirs, either." 

He realized, in the back of his head, both Natell and Susana, who he considered cornerstones in the department, both knew. Most of the people that were close to him did—except Jesús, but that was a bridge to cross in what he hoped to be a long time from then. 

"Just like how the shit you do isn’t any of my business unless it gets you or somebody else in medbay. You’re going to have to take anything else up with the Captain." 

[calypso-alan-blog]

Okay, maybe mentioning Jude's past was a bit of a low blow. Still, it had seemed to shake up the already uncomfortable doctor a bit more. Small victories, Alan. Small victories.

The last thing Alan wanted to do was talk with Don—their relationship had been rocky at best since Alan walked onto the ship, and he certainly didn't want to accidentally implicate himself in any qualms lest she find a way to twist them against him. (She wasn't stupid, either.)

"Alright, Doctor. If you truly do not 'know' anything, I'm backing off for now." He paused, taking just a moment to let his words sink in. "But I will not let you off so easily if I find out that what I believe to be correct is true."

The young doctor was better at dodging his questions than he'd expected, but, then again, Alan should have known better than to assume that children were bad liars.

[calypso-jude]

"I told you," he repeated, and gritted his teeth to keep himself from lashing out. "I’m not the right person to ask for this. Of all the crew. I don’t know anything about it." 

But just for the hell of it, he added: “And I don’t have anything to hide.” Which wasn’t true at all, but only in the sense he had things to hide from his crew. He was absolutely certain Alan had done his research on him. 

[calypso-alan-blog]

"I assume everyone is aware, then, of what has happened under your command in the past."

Alan folded his hands in his lap calmly, deciding not to grasp Jude's wrist for emphasis until he really needed that extra push. He would get to the bottom of this somehow—if there were potentially damaging comments about him being flung around the ship, it meant his career was at stake.

"And if you're hiding that, Doctor," he added, somewhat smugly, "then you've led me to believe that there's even more I haven't heard."

[calypso-jude]

At first he wasn’t sure what exactly he was referring to, but then his face visibly twisted. He wished he could retrieve the file now that the curiosity (and dread) was eating at him, but it was much too late. After all, he probably would make himself sick. 

Instead he sat back and met his eyes; his gaze was steady, but his voice wavered, if only slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

[calypso-alan-blog]

"Dr. Isley, I know that a good amount of people in this crew aren't exactly pleased with my presence, and, although my inspection is technically 'complete,' I have a feeling there is something I have greatly overlooked."

The tips of Alan's heels tapped impatiently against the floor. "There is nothing you can hide from me."

[calypso-piper]

Oh, Admiral. I didn’t see you there. Something bothering me, you ask? Why yes.

You.

[calypso-alan-blog]

Well, I can see your biting "wit" hasn't changed a bit since we last spoke.

Either way, 'seems the rest of the crew shares your sentiments. You know, it's a real shame that your apparent dislike of me has spread so quickly.

[calypso-jude]

As soon as he let go, he pulled his hand back defensively and put it to his own chest, resisting the temptation to clutch at his own sides in protection. It wouldn’t do any good to his own injuries. 

"You’re about as compassionate as a"—god damn it—"as a snake, Admiral." He stiffened as he sat up, his hand clenching in his shirt. "And we both know it. I’m not stupid.” 

[calypso-alan-blog]

Now, Alan's mock offense was turning into actual, real offense—albeit with a twinge of worry. He hadn't come off as that insincere, had he? "We have talked only twice, yet you are already making such crude assumptions about me. I'm gravely disappointed."

He leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders, when, suddenly, it came to him.

"You know, Doctor, I'm not stupid, either, and I know as well as anyone that rumors spread very quickly amongst tight-knit crews such as these. Perhaps it would be to your benefit to tell me what exactly those rumors are."

[calypso-piper]

….Fuck.

[calypso-alan-blog]

Ah, Commander Piper.

Something bothering you?

[calypso-alan-blog]

chirp chirp peep peep PECK PECK MOTHAFUCKA (watching you)

I can barely decipher any of the messages I receive anymore.

[calypso-jude]

It took a second to hit him, but when it did, it came crashing down—not unlike a metal filing cabinet, taking the air out of his lungs and making his face pale. 

He sat up and tried to yank his hand back in the process, realizing it was already shaking. No way. No fucking way he’d have this discussion—he’d read the first four words of his file, and that was enough to tip him off. It was the look on his face, under false cordiality, that reminded him.

"All due respect, Admiral," he started, doing his best not to sound too upset, or to shoot daggers when he looked at him, "but I’d like you to leave now." 

[calypso-alan-blog]

The feeling of Jude's hand quivering underneath his own was all Alan needed to know he was on the right track.

"You'd like me to leave, Doctor?" His eyes drifted down to their hands, then back to Jude. He faked offense, smile disappearing. "Did I do something wrong? Did I make a misstep in offering you my ear, in offering you compassion?"

Solemnly, he removed his hand from Jude's. "It appears I did. How grateful of you."

[calypso-jude]

"Maybe." His teeth worried at his lip, and he tugged the sheets up over himself; it felt a little childish, but there was a sense of comfort. "I don’t heal quickly." 

He meant it in the physical sense, but of course there was an underlying tone; it was pathetic, and he didn’t entirely intend it. It had taken five years to get back up, and no less than another year to get knocked down again.

"But usually I don’t have to worry about protecting myself," he added, "because I’m not supposed to. It can’t happen." 

It wasn’t as harsh a blow as before, but there was still frustration, and the way the Admiral was sitting over him gave him the feeling it was on the path to getting much, much worse. 

[calypso-alan-blog]

In his experience, only a slim few of the Starfleet personnel Alan had known to have traveled on multiple voyages had not experienced something at least moderately life-changing, usually something traumatic. During his time with Starflet, he'd been getting better at recognizing denial and over-protectiveness in those who had, but he obviously had room for improvement if he was just now picking up on what the doctor was really telling him.

He leaned in towards Jude, taking the other man's hand in his with false compassion. "Oh, Doctor, there's no reason to chide yourself. After all, I suppose, there are things that even you don't have control over." He shrugged slightly—as if to say What can you do?—the icy smile that was now spreading across his face veiled by sympathy.